Intervention
by coleypunk-y2j
Summary: Adam Copeland is hooked on drugs. With the help of long-time boyfriend, Randy Orton, and other friends and family members, can Adam be saved from his own demons before it's too late? Rated M for mature themes. Other Warnings Inside! Please Review!


**Disclaimer:** I do not own or claim ownership to any real-life persons. I own my OC's and the plot line. This is purely a work of fiction and is meant for entertainment purposes only.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warnings:** slash (m/m pairing), one-shot, dramatic themes, graphic scenes, drug use, and explicit language

* * *

"You're going to look into this lens and introduce yourself," Matt, the producer, informed me. I gave him a nod of recognition before looking down and breathing away my nerves. I was still a little nervous and iffy about going through with this documentary. However, I wouldn't face many repercussions; I had already retired from WWE, so neither Vince nor Paul had control over what I did anymore. But what would the fans think? What about Carlee, when she grows up, too?

I shook my head once before looking up and into the lens. The camera guy turned the camera on, and I waited until the red light turned on before talking.

"Hi, my name's Adam Copeland, although I'm more commonly known as Edge, the Rated R Superstar from WWE. I'm 38 years old and I have a secret: I'm addicted to heroin.

"I live with my long-time boyfriend, Randy, and our four-year-old daughter, Carlee Orton. I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada, and became a wrestler for WWE in 1997. My mother, Judy, was a single mother for my entire life; hell, I've never met or even seen a photograph of my father. It doesn't bother me much, except for the fact he knocked my Ma up and booked it. I had a good upbringing; my Ma made sure my childhood was the best anyone could ask for. I met my long-time friend, Jason Reso, known as Christian in WWE, during this time-period. We did everything together, even becoming famous as professional wrestlers by each other's sides. I couldn't ask for a better best friend."

"Good," Matt praised me. The camera guy shut the camera off and I let out a nervous sigh in my seat. I had expected to shoot some more, but the crew obviously had other ideas.

"Thank you, Adam. You go home now and come back tomorrow so we can continue filming," Matt said. He stood up to shake my hand briefly before sitting back in a chair. I gave him a nod before leaving the room and putting my sunglasses over my blue eyes. The less people that noticed me around, the better.

* * *

**-Four weeks later-**

"Have a seat, Adam!" Matt stated politely. I was seriously regretting my decision on not getting high before I came in to view the tape they'd recorded about me, but I had made a promise. I sat down and got comfortable before Matt switched the TV on and started the tape. The shows intro ran across the screen before my name popped up against a black background, which preceded my face coming into frame. God, I looked like _shit._

"Hi, my name's Adam Copeland, although I'm more commonly known as Edge, the Rated R Superstar from WWE. I'm 38 years old and I have a secret: I'm addicted to heroin.

"I live with my long-time boyfriend, Randy, and our four-year-old daughter, Carlee Orton. I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada, and became a wrestler for WWE in 1997. My mother, Judy, was a single mother for my entire life; hell, I've never met or even seen a photograph of my father. It doesn't bother me much, except for the fact he knocked my Ma up and booked it. I had a good upbringing; my Ma made sure my childhood was the best anyone could ask for. I met my long-time friend, Jason Reso, known as Christian in WWE, during this time-period. We did everything together, even becoming famous as professional wrestlers by each other's sides. I couldn't ask for a better best friend."

My face faded away and was replaced by white lettering on a black background again. The lettering read, "Adam has agreed to be in documentary about addiction. He does not know his family is planning an intervention."

My heart fluttered in my chest when I remembered that terrible afternoon. The lettering faded away to Jay's face. He looked sad, hurt, and confused. I felt horrible that I made him feel that way.

"I'm Jason Reso, and Adam's my best friend," Jay sighed. "We basically grew up together. I like to call him the twin brother I never had. Our lives were great up until about 2005, when, for some reason, Adam discovered OxyContin. I knew that he did it only after he became addicted. I tried to help him clean up, and I thought he did, because he stopped spending his money on pills. Little did I know that Adam switched to the much cheaper heroin and has been shooting up since early '06. I only found out a few months ago when I inducted him into the WWE Hall of Fame. He was in his dress shirt and getting into his car when I went to get a last hug from him when I noticed how fucked his arms were. They were bruised, scabbed, and he had a couple open wounds. I called him out and he admitted to doing heroin. I was crushed; I can't imagine how Randy felt about it."

Jay's face switched to Randy's. I felt my heart clamp tight.

"I'm Randy Orton, Adam's boyfriend and father to his child," Randy started. His voice was deep with sadness. "Adam started taking Oxy's in 2005, and being the naïve young adult I was, I started using them, too. Our relationship began as being drug buddies. After a few months of taking pills, our money was starting to run low. A drug buddy of ours told us that heroin was just like OxyContin, just cheaper. So, of course, the next time we went to our dealer, we got heroin instead of Oxy. We gathered two needles, two spoons, and two lighters back at the hotel and started preparing our first-ever syringe of heroin together. Before we stuck the needle into our veins, we had our first kiss. Then, we pushed the plunger, and our lives quickly turned to hell."

Randy's face switched to mine.

"Once Randy and I started doing heroin, shit started to go downhill," my on-screen self explained. "We didn't fall into the swirling spiral of addiction for a few months still. Our jobs remained stable, and nobody figured out we were using needles. After a year, though, in late-2007, we really fell hard for heroin. Randy got caught violating Wellness Policy by the drug screeners and got his first suspension. He was terrified of losing his dream career, so he sent himself to rehab. While he spent time there, I got worse and worse with my drug consumption. I had nobody watching me or supervising me, so I just went to town. Right before Randy was scheduled to be released from rehab, I got some rather unsettling news. I was pregnant."

I watched in horror as my face gave way to Carlee's. Her bright, chubby face overtook the screen with a wide smile. In the bottom of the screen, there was some text explaining what the faint murmur was saying.

_**Matt (producer):** What's your name?_

"My name is Carlee Jean Orton and I'm four-years-old," Carlee beamed. She still had a hard time sounding out her "R's", which only added to the adorable factor she had going.

_**Matt:** Do you know why we're interviewing you, Carlee?_

"'Cause Mommy is getting a invention," Carlee answered. "'Cause Daddy said that Mommy has been doing bad stuff called drugs. Daddy said drugs are like bad medicines, but not the kind I have when I feel stuffy. Those are bad 'cause the taste is yucky."

_**Matt:** Do you know why your mommy does drugs?_

Carlee shook her head, which sent light-brown strands of hair in every direction. "Mommy did them since before I was born. They make Mommy act like a not-so-good Mommy sometimes. Like, when Mommy does them, her – I mean he – acts all tired and sleepy. And sometimes Mommy will fall asleep in the middle of talking."

_**Matt:** Do you like it when your mommy acts like that?_

"No, 'cause I just want Mommy to play with me," Carlee said sadly. "When Daddy's not home, Mommy always has a big-kid sitter to watch me. I don't need a babysitter 'cause I'm not a baby. Then Mommy sleeps all day and I barely see him."

I felt tears start to pool at the surface of my eyes. It killed me to see the effect of my drug use on Carlee. Her beautiful face switched back to mine.

"I was in total disbelief when I found out I was pregnant," my on-screen self said. "When Randy came back from rehab, I told him immediately. I didn't know what to do. Randy was excited and happy. He thought I had stopped using when I found out about my pregnancy. When I told him otherwise, he got really mad with me and pleaded with me to at least stop using until our child was born."

My face faded to black, and white lettering appeared on the screen again.

"Their daughter, Carlee Jean Orton, was born November 9, 2008. She was not affected by Adam's heroin consumption in the early stages of pregnancy."

My face popped back up.

"The weeks following the birth were hell on me, as any normal parent would agree. However, I started to secretly use heroin again for a while until Carlee was a few months old, where I cleaned up for her sake. From there, I was clean until she was nearly three. Then I started again."

The screen now read, "Adam suffered his first heroin overdose in January of 2011. Paramedics revived him before he arrived at the hospital where he stayed for three days before being discharged. Immediately after, he hunted down his dealer and bought more heroin."

"Then came the slew of overdoses that I concealed well," my face said on the TV. "By the time Carlee turned four, I had been through at least eight overdoses. I just couldn't stop. By then, I was shooting up usually twelve times a day. The guilt I got from knowing I was hurting my daughter drove me to do so much smack that I literally couldn't feel a thing; not even a metal baseball bat hitting my blue flesh by the babysitter while Carlee watched on with tears running down her face. She didn't, and still doesn't, really understand the whole concept of drug use."

Randy's face replaced mine. "A couple months ago in May, I came home from the road as a surprise. Adam wasn't expecting me back for a few more weeks, so I felt the need to show up in complete unawareness to him. I hushed Carlee and Brooke, our babysitter, as I quietly climbed the steps to our bedroom. I took a breath and flung the door open to find Adam sitting on the bed, looking thin and grayish, and the plunger freshly pushed all the way down to the base of the needle in his arm. He looked up at me with horror and hurried to pull the needle from his arm. He didn't even notice the thin trail of blood that came from the punctured skin. I freaked out at him and broke down in tears. He wasn't being a parent to Carlee whatsoever or a boyfriend to me. I was sick and tired of the shit he was putting our family through by doing dope. In my anger, I grabbed his discarded, dirty needle and drew up what was left on the blackened spoon and jabbed it into my vein. Needless to say, Brooke found the two of us passed out on the floor with rigs spewed out among our unconscious bodies."

"Randy was in violation of WWE's Wellness Policy from the heroin in his system. He was suspended May 30, 2012 for the second time, and has yet to make his return to the company."

"I got help," Randy plainly stated. "My relapse was a mistake and definitely a one-time deal. Now it's Adam's turn to get help, which is why I'm hoping this intervention will help him hit rock bottom before it's too late." Randy's eyes welled up with tears and a few fell down his face. My chest hurt from the overload of guilt. "Before I get a phone call from Brooke telling me that my Adam is gone for good."

Matt paused the TV. "This is where we'll break for a commercial. Next up is some footage we shot of your everyday life."

I nodded towards him, although I was seriously not looking forward to what was going to play next. I could vaguely remember the upcoming scenes being shot, although since I was high, I definitely didn't get the full effect. Matt started the tape up again.

"Adam is waiting for his dealer to come over so he can buy more heroin. His daughter and Brooke, the nearly live-in babysitter, are in the next room over."

The screen switched to me anxiously pacing in the foyer. Damn, I looked like absolute shit.

"If Craig doesn't get here soon, he's gonna get it," I explained to the camera. "That no-good piece of shit worthless bastard doesn't know who he's messing with. He'd better not fuck me."

The camera panned to the side window. A shady-looking black car pulled up. That's Craig, alright.

"Fucking finally," TV-me hissed. I ran out of the house with the camera following. Craig and I did a quick exchange of drugs and money before I snaked back into the house and slithered upstairs. I left the door unlocked and dumped my goods on the hardwood floor.

I watched as I cooked up that nearly-lethal concoction and drew it up into some dirty old syringe before I started prodding on both arms for a vein. TV-me looked at the camera and chuckled dryly. "Looks like I'm gonna have to try my neck again."

The camera followed me to where I stood in front of a mirror with the needle poised at a thick vein in my neck. Shaking, the needle slid in with ease, and I pushed the plunger down before pulling out the needle and wiping away the excess blood. Looking back, I knew how quickly the drug raced through my body, and that was proved in the way my eyes started fluttering shut in front of the camera. They skipped a few moments to show me trying to make it to the bed, but instead, I kept collapsing onto the ground and nodding out. I never did make it to the bed before I passed out for a final time that afternoon.

"Several hours later, Adam woke up to a knocking on his bedroom door."

TV-me started stirring on the ground, before I lifted my head up enough to acknowledge the knocking on the door. In my drugged-up voice, I shouted, "One minute!"

The camera filmed me shoving all of my rigs and other paraphernalia underneath my bed before I got up on my nearly rail-thin legs and opened the door. I watched, in anger with myself, as Carlee stood on the other side of the door with a concerned look on her face.

"Mommy, will you please tuck me in?" she asked. Her eyes – which she inherited from Randy – looked up into mine pleadingly.

"Sure, baby, Mommy's coming ri'now," I slurred. I lifted her into my ugly arms and brought her to bed, where I pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"Mommy, have you been doing your medicine?" she asked innocently, sweetly. I remember the guilt and anguish that surged through my body at that moment. It was happening again just watching it.

"No, baby girl. Mommy's done doing that stuff, remember?"

Carlee wrestled her right hand and arm out from under her covers. Grasped in her little hand was a – thankfully – capped needle. She looked up at me with slight betrayal deep within her eyes. "What's this then, Mommy?"

My ugly hands wrestled it out of her hand and threw it out the door and down the hall. "Where did you get that?" I demanded in a low growl. Carlee shrunk back in her bed with watery eyes.

"You-you left it in the-the bathroom, Mommy," she said. Her bottom lip quivered before tears fell down her face. "Daddy showed me what it was so I know that it's bad and I don't touch it but I saw the top on it so I wanted to give it back. 'Cause even though it's bad, Mommy, I want you happy forever."

On-screen me looked at her, distraught. I quickly re-tucked her in and left the room without as much as a good night. I kicked the needle somewhere and ran into my drug den to sob. All the while, the cameras remained on me steadily.

Randy's face filled the screen again. This time, his face was red in anger. "He gets high with our daughter in the same house. Sometimes, he gets high with her in the next room! I am so done with him putting Carlee through this fucking bullshit. She doesn't deserve it. I don't deserve it. And Adam doesn't deserve it. I just wish we never picked those fucking pills up in the first place, dammit!"

The camera refocused on Randy as his anger turned to tears. He buried his face in his hands. Matt, again, paused the TV.

"Here is where another commercial would occur," Matt explained. He wasted no time in playing the tape again.

"Today, Adam's mother, Judy, is coming to visit Adam. She has no idea he does drugs."

The camera panned in on my mom driving her car. "I can't wait to see my son and my granddaughter," she gushed to the camera. "I can't imagine what this 'documentary' that you all keep talking about is based upon. Didn't Adam already have a few DVDs put out on his life?"

The camera then skipped to Ma getting out of her car and knocking on my front door. A sunken-in version of me answered the door. The surprise was evident on my mom's face, but she hugged me nonetheless. I invited her in, and no sooner than she had stepped foot in the house did Carlee come running down the hall.

"Grandma, grandma!" She cheered happily, before entering the room and launching herself at Ma. She laughed warmly and bent down to pick Carlee up to give her a hug and kiss.

"How's my favorite grandkid?" Ma gushed. Carlee giggled.

"But I'm your only grandkid, Grandma!"

Ma gave her a "you-caught-me" look before putting her back on her feet and going over to hug Brooke. On-screen me looked on, feeling detached. Damn right I should be, too.

"So, Adam," Ma said, stalling some. "What's this documentary about?"

I had opened my mouth to speak, but Carlee beat me to the punch. "It's 'cause Mommy does bad medicine called drugs like Daddy used to do, too, but he went to the doctor to fix him and now he's all better but Mommy's not."

I cringed, both on-screen and in my seat watching. My mother took a step towards Carlee protectively before she whipped her head towards me. "Adam? Is this true?"

I didn't answer her immediately. "Answer me, Adam Joseph Copeland!"

I nodded my head rapidly. Carlee looked up at Ma from where she was being held behind her legs. "Mommy didn't have his medicine today Grandma. He needs it to feel betterer."

"Better," Ma corrected lightly. "Adam, I can't believe you would do this. You're so much better than this. I mean, look at you! You look like those hobos that we used to pass on the streets when you were a kid." She continued on with a spewing of other questions before I interrupted her.

"Ma, I'm really not in the mood," I spat before pointing towards the door. "Get. Out."

She sniffed and turned her nose up at me before leaving. It hurt to do it, but in my frazzled, heroin-deprived brain, it had to be done.

"Mommy, why were you mean to Grandma?" Carlee asked, sniffling.

"Carlee, you go take Brooke somewhere and do something. Just get away from me," I hissed quietly. She pouted before running over to Brooke and crying. Brooke picked her up and, after shooting me a nasty glare, left the room. The camera filmed me as I slumped to the floor and bit my thumb.

"I wanted nothing to do with my mom at that moment in time," I explained. My face took up the screen once again. "All I wanted was to call Craig up so I could score more dope. I just didn't care about anything anymore."

Ma's crying face took up the screen. "I'm hoping this intervention will make Adam quit the drugs before I get the news saying my son died."

Matt paused the TV yet again, and I waved my hand at him, signaling him to keep going. He pressed _play_ again.

"Some of Adam's family and friends are gathering for the pre-intervention meet-up along with interventionist Ken Seeley for the last time before Adam joins."

"You have to understand that addiction is a disease, a disorder of the mind," Ken explained. "I was once addicted to crystal meth, and I've been clean since 1989. Adam can get better, too, but not without hitting rock bottom. We do that here by giving him ultimatums. Randy, what are you willing to tell Adam you'll do if he doesn't get clean?"

Randy sat forward in his seat and read from his paper. "Adam, if you don't accept the help we're offering to you, then I'm kicking you out of my house and I'll go to court with you over the custody of Carlee. I will fight for full custody, as you don't deserve her if you're choosing heroin over us."

"Will you be able to go through with that?" Ken asked seriously. Randy nodded with certainty.

"Adam, if you do not get clean, I will cut off all contact with you," Jay said shakily. "I truly mean this. I don't need your drama getting in my way."

"Adam, you're my son, and my son you'll always be. However, if you don't get clean, I will fully support Randy's side in giving him full custody of Carlee, and I will also cut ties with you."

Carlee held up a paper she had scribbled on so she could feel like the adults in the room. "Mommy, I can't see you anymore if you don't get help and then I can't talk to you, either. Please get help Mommy."

Brooke also mentioned that she'd cut all ties with him if he didn't get help.

"Tomorrow, Adam's going to be here," Ken explained. "We've rehearsed this enough, so don't be scared. One way or another, we will get him to rehab."

"Commercial break," Matt said, not bothering to pause the TV.

"Adam thinks he's going to his last interview. He does not know he'll be walking into an intervention."

The camera showed me leaving the house with my sunglasses on, before I got into my car. I had used right before I left, so it was a wonder I ever made it to the hotel alive. The camera followed my skeleton-like body through hotel corridors until I approached the correct room. Before I opened the door, the camera switched to everyone in the room standing up, and then it captured my reaction to seeing everyone there.

"Shit! Fucking shit, I should have fucking known this was gonna fucking happen!" I screamed on TV. I tried to run, but Ken jumped up and convinced me to just stay and listen. After much back-and-forth talking, I finally followed Ken into the room. The only empty space was in a single-chair. Randy, Carlee, and Brooke sat on the couch, while Jay and Ma sat on the loveseat. I kept my sunglasses on so they couldn't see my fluttering eyelids.

"Adam, we're all here today because we love you, and we care about you. We want you to go to rehab to get help for your heroin addiction. The flight leaves tonight." Ken tried to hand me a brochure. I crumpled it up and threw it.

"I'm not going anywhere," I sneered. Ma broke down and started crying while Jay rubbed her arm comfortingly. He shot daggers at me through his hurt eyes.

"Well, Adam, everyone here has an ultimatum for you if you don't accept treatment," Ken said.

"Adam, if you don't get treatment, I'm cutting all ties I have with you," Brooke said, her voice quivering with emotion.

"Adam," Randy began. His voice was strong and deep. "If you don't get clean and accept the treatment we're providing you with, I'll have no choice but to kick you out of my house and take you to court to get full custody of Carlee. You don't deserve to have her in your life if you care more about smack than us."

I could tell I was about to cry, even behind my sunglasses. I put my hand near my face to catch any tears should they fall.

"Adam, you are my son, and my son you'll always be," Ma started between her tears. "But if you don't accept treatment, I will side with Randy completely so he gets full custody of Carlee. I will also cut ties with you."

"Adam, if you don't get help, I will cut off all contact with you. I don't need this type of drama in my life," Jay said steadily.

"Are you through?" I snapped arrogantly. Everyone turned towards Carlee where she held her scribble-filled paper in her hands.

"Mommy, if you don't go to the doctor to get help for the bad medicines, I won't be able to see you and I won't be able to talk to you or play with you again. I don't want that to happen, Mommy. Please go get help."

I started crying listening to my daughter tell me this. I got up to give her a hug, but Randy threw his arm between us. "Are you going to get help, Adam?"

I nodded my head weakly. "Yes, Randy. Yes, everyone else; I'll go to rehab."

A few claps sounded from the people in the room, and Randy removed his arm from between me and Carlee. I picked her up and swung her around before I held her close to me and showered her with kisses.

"Mommy, are you going to get help?" she asked, sniffling.

"Yes, baby, I'm going to get help."

"Commercial."

The camera focused on me boarding an airplane by myself and getting out and traveling to a rehab facility. The shows signature ending song played as I entered the facility. The head counselor of the place talked about the help I would receive.

"Adam went to rehab on July 1, 2012."

Matt shut the TV off. "Now, when your rehab stay is over, we'll come back with the cameras to film you again. The ending will be you once you've been clean for a while, and then the last frame will state how long you've been sober for."

I sighed heavily in my seat. "That was not easy to watch," I admitted.

"It shouldn't be," Matt assured me. "Well, Adam, we'll see you in a while. Best of luck to you."

"Thanks," I said genuinely. I left the room I had entered nearly forty minutes ago and went out to the cliff side overlooking the gently moving waves. The wind weaved through my short blond hair as I took in my surroundings. I was so happy to be sober; I was seeing everything in a different light now. I knew good things would only happen from here on out.

* * *

**A/N:** This idea came to be courtesy of a plot bunny. I'm actually really pleased with how it turned out. I should add that some events were true (Randy getting suspended for violating Wellness, Adam's dad not being there in his life...) but this story is ENTIRELY fictitious. Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this. Please Review! c:


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